


A Localized Effect

by tigerlady (shetiger)



Category: Eureka
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/pseuds/tigerlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack gets invited out for an evening of quiet relaxation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Localized Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Dr. Hood is Alan Ruck's character from the episode Best In Faux. I thought he and Jack had fantastic chemistry together, and thus this story. :)

Jack squinted down the brown glass tunnel, screwing his eyes tight in an attempt to see if any beer was still lurking in the bottom of the bottle. But the sky was too dark overhead, and the campfire too bright beyond, and his eyes were just a little too hazed by the beer he had already drunk. So he went with the tried and true method and tipped the bottle to his lips. The last flat drops trickled onto his tongue. He licked his lips clean and then dropped the bottle into the high-tech recycling/trash bucket that sat between their chairs.

Instead of reaching for another bottle, he let his head drop back so that he could focus on Hood. He was smiling at the campfire, the lines around his eyes crinkled up with his inner amusement. The shadows flickering across his face made him look even more mad-scientisty than usual. Which was funny, because earthquake predictions and Earth-tunneler aside, Hood was pretty much the sanest person Jack had met since coming to Eureka.

"You're not like anyone else here," Jack said, lips apparently as relaxed as his eyes.

Hood raised an eyebrow. "I sense a compliment in there somewhere, Sheriff, but I'm having a hard time figuring out exactly where."

"Yeah, sorry." Jack shook his head, trying to clear the fog in his brain, then made a completely unsuccessful attempt to push himself forward. The deep cloth seat of the butterfly chair made it difficult to do anything but sprawl back in lazy comfort. Jack groaned when his second try only made him look twice as drunk as he was. He finally settled for planting his feet wide apart and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Okay, there needs to be a blood alcohol limit on the use of these things."

Hood burst out laughing, opening his mouth wide and throwing his head back like that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Jack cut him a little slack for the extravagant reaction; the guy hadn't spent much time around people in the past few years, after all.

Not that he himself wasn't a damn funny guy.

Hood's laughter finally wound down. Jack smiled and decided he should just give up on anything resembling normal conversational posture. He relaxed back in the chair and folded his hands across his solar plexus. It felt good to be out here, doing this. Doing something guy-normal, with no expectations of anything exciting happening--besides maybe hooking a fish tomorrow morning when they put out their lines. He was glad he'd bumped into Hood outside Cafe Diem this afternoon. Glad he'd accepted the impromptu camping invitation.

"You were expounding on my unusualness," Hood prompted.

"Right." Jack wished he still had a bottle to focus on as he tried to figure out how to get his point across without insulting the man in the process. Although he kind of thought that Hood would just laugh off any faux pas on Jack's part. "I don't know, exactly. You just strike me as somebody who gets it. The irony of this place, I mean. How fantastically crazy and amazing and terrifying what everyone here is doing."

Hood didn't laugh. The firelight still flickered across his face, turning his eyes dark and mirrored, but he didn't look mad-scientist crazy at all, now. Just human. "I guess maybe it has something to do with working so intimately with the earth. Literally keeps me grounded and all that metaphysical stuff." Then he snorted. "Or maybe it's that once you've been laughed as far out of the scientific community as I have, you learn that the only way to hang onto your sanity is to learn to laugh back at 'em."

Jack nodded in empathy. "Yeah, that's gotta suck."

Hood shrugged. "It was my own fault, really. Got too caught up in the excitement of my idea. I was so sure I could save lives, that I forgot to make sure that what I wanted to see was really there." He stretched forward with ease, not hampered at all by the chair he was sitting in, and snagged another beer from the open cooler. "Still, it's better to err on the side of wrong that I did, and not in the catastrophic direction. So they evacuated the whole city. Nobody died because I was wrong." Hood twisted the cap off of the bottle and tossed it back into the cooler. "At least that's what I tell myself every morning."

"Hey, I'm with you." If only, oh, 99% of the scientists at Global would get on board with that train of thought, his job would bet about 2000% easier. A lot more boring, maybe, but he could handle boring. Boring meant more time for Zoe, not to mention watching as many ball games as S.A.R.A.H. could get her hot little circuits on.

And maybe he should ask for world peace and the cure for cancer while he was wishing. Jack eyed the cooler, but the bottles were just beyond his reach, and he didn't feel up to taking on his chair again.

"Another, Sheriff?" Hood asked, already leaning towards the cooler.

"Thanks." Jack nodded as he took the bottle. He twisted the top off, then paused, struck by a thought. "It's Jack, by the way."

"Jack." Hood smiled. He had a really nice smile, wide and bright, and it made his whole face look younger. Like it chased away the Grizzly Adams effect of his beard and the Einstein white at his temples. And Hood smiled a lot. "_Jack._ It suits you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, wondering what that was supposed to mean. "Thanks, I think."

"Masculine, forceful, without pretension. Like I said, it suits you." Hood winked. "Now Myron, on the other hand. Believe me, you don't want to be a Myron."

"Myron?" Jack coughed on his swallow of beer. "Your name is Myron?"

Hood laughed. "No, it's Matthew. Matt. But I stand by my statement. Myron would be a damn hard name to live with, especially in grade school."

Jack was the one caught by a deep belly laugh this time. He didn't fight it, just let himself laugh loud and hard for a full minute until his face muscles ached and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Then he took a deep breath, rubbed his hand across his face, and let himself collapse back into the black-hole depths of the chair. He lolled his head back to stare up-up-up at the crystal-clear stars in the midnight sky. Crickets chirped nearby while the fire popped and crackled in front of them. The dew-heavy air kept the smell of woodsmoke and late summer daisies close, brought the lake beyond the ridge closer, and right now, he didn't care if he ever managed to stand up again. If the town needed him, they could come up here and tip him out of the damn chair. But until then, he was going to sit here, enjoying a perfect late summer evening, some good beer, and good conversation with somebody who didn't want him to fix all their problems for a change.

"I've missed this," Hood--Matt--said.

"Missed camping?"

"Missed company. Especially company like yours." Matt rolled his head towards Jack, and his smile was slower this time, smaller. A late-night at the bar smile, the one you share with someone right before declaring it's time to go home to bed--alone or otherwise. Jack's heart thumped hard, and then Matt rolled his head towards the fire again, smile smoothing easily away as he took another drink of beer. "I should really get out more, I suppose. Especially now that I'm not quite the pariah I used to be."

"Yeah. You should." Jack hesitated. He could play it cool, pretend he hadn't seen what he'd seen. Or... "I haven't had the chance to just hang out with people in a really long time. I mean--" He cut himself off. There was being subtle, and then there was being completely opaque.

"You're a man who's devoted to your work. I get that." Matt tipped his bottle at Jack in acknowledgment. "Believe me, I get that. Makes it hard to wind down, take some time for yourself, let alone anybody else."

"Well, yeah. And it's not exactly like I can just sit back and let the world end while I take a personal day." The last time he'd tried, his house had killed the pizza guy. Not the most shining example of civil service. "Abbey--my ex-wife--she never got that."

Matt nodded for a few seconds, then shook his head. "I used to be like that. Did everything I could to keep an eye on every single quiver the earth made. Tried to anticipate every disaster that could happen." He wagged the bottle in Jack's direction like it was a lecture pointer. "Let me tell you a secret."

"Yeah?"

Matt leaned forward, eyes intent on Jack's. "You can't control it all. One day, disaster's going to hit, and there's absolutely nothing we can do to stop it. And you just have to accept that."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "That's pretty grim."

"No!" Matt's posture completely changed. He reared back, spreading his arms wide as a grin returned to his face. He looked like a holy roller like that, ready to preach his word to the masses, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that kept him real. It was that sense of amused irony that Jack had commented on earlier. "No, not it all. It means that we're free to live the life we want to live. Yeah, you do your part to keep us safe, and believe me, I appreciate that. But if one day something goes wrong, it's not your fault. You don't have to carry that around with you, Jack."

Jack set the beer bottle down on the ground beside him. He'd had too many; his gut was squirming with something that he didn't want to name. "Carry what around with me?"

Matt looked at him. Just looked, the wrinkles around his eyes tightening as he studied Jack's face. Jack licked his lips, wondering if he wanted to hear whatever Matt had figured out. But then Matt waved his empty hand in the air like he was swatting a fly. "Ahh, don't listen to me. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Just ask anybody in town." He flashed a grin, then dropped his bottle into the bucket of empties before pushing out of his chair. "I think it's about time for me to call it an evening."

"What? Wait." Jack tried to stand up, but he couldn't duplicate Matt's effortless success. There had to be a trick to it. He scrabbled forward again--and a hand caught his, hauling upward. Jack flowed to his feet, Matt's strength finally giving the anchor he needed--and wound up standing face-to-face with him, their chests not even a full inch apart. Close enough to kiss. Jack swallowed hard. "Uh, thanks."

"You're welcome." Matt started to release his hand, but Jack tightened his hold before he could move away.

"Wait." Matt's hand was cool from the beer and the night air, but it was warming. Jack was having a hard time focusing on what he wanted to say.

"Yes?"

"What were you going to say?" Jack asked at last. "What do I carry around with me?"

Matt sighed and stepped back. Not far, but it was enough to leave Jack feeling chilly without his broad body guarding him from the night air. "Guilt. I'd even call it a martyr complex if I was trying to be dramatic. You're not responsible for the whole world, Jack."

Matt kept watching his face, but Jack was too caught up in _blood on Angela's face Abbey's angry eyes Nathan's frozen smile_ the past to decipher his look. "Yeah, well." Jack swallowed. "It's a nice thought, but I've got a badge and a town full of people determined to blow it up, and that pretty much says that I am."

Matt opened his mouth, but then the breath seemed to catch in his chest and he let it out with a tired sigh. "Ahhh, what do I know?" he said again. He patted Jack on the upper arm a couple times, then let his hand drop. He turned to face the fire, away from Jack, and pulled what looked like a tiny remote control out of a pocket of his fishing vest. "You might want to cover your ears."

"Wh--" was as much as Jack got out before a loud bang cut him off. The campfire whooshed out of existence a second later. So much for the idea for a night of the simple life. Jack twisted his fingers in his ears until he was sure they were done ringing, then turned to Matt. "What the hell? Is that some fancy GD fire extinguisher?"

"This?" Matt held up the remote--which actually looked more like a detonator switch. "Nah. Old oilman's trick. A small controlled explosion creates a vacuum. Smothers the flames lickety-split."

"Explosion? You're telling me you had explosives in the fire pit the whole time?" Matt grinned at him. Jack shook his head, but he had to laugh. "You really are crazy, aren't you?"

"Life's more fun that way." Matt stuffed the detonator back into his pocket, then gathered up the bucket of trash. Jack grabbed the cooler and followed him back into the cabin. He set the cooler down in the entryway to the kitchen, then wandered back out into the living room. He stretched his arms towards the ceiling, then bent over, trying to remind his back muscles how to do the job of holding him upright. When he straightened again, Matt was still busy putting things away, fussing about in the kitchen, so Jack took the opportunity to look around. Indulge his investigator's curiosity.

It was a cozy place, decorated in a purposefully rustic look. Timber walls and ceiling made the place feel warm even without a fire in the fireplace. The wooden frames of the sofa and armchairs were rough-hewn pine, and the cushions were upholstered with a deep forest green. The whole thing left him with the impression of a fancy hunting lodge--only without the hunting elements. Instead of moose heads and shellacked fish on the walls, there were maps. Lots of geological survey maps that Jack couldn't have made heads or tails of if he tried. And above the fireplace mantle, where he'd expect an antique hunting rifle to be, was an old mining pick and a worn gold pan.

Curiosity minimally satisfied, Jack settled in on the couch and went to work on the laces of his boots. His head was clearer now that his eyes weren't working so hard to compensate for the contrast of the bright firelight against the night dark. The alcohol buzz was fading, too, but Jack still felt good. Relaxed, even after the uncomfortable turn their conversation had taken earlier. The evening had been perfect otherwise. Jack turned sideways, settling his arm along the back of the sofa as he watched Matt's shadow move across what he could see of the kitchen. Yeah, this place was nice, and the beer had been good. The food, too. But Matt was the real reason Jack was feeling so good right now.

He thought maybe good could get better.

"You hungry?" Matt called from the kitchen. "I could make pancakes if you want. Or there's still pie."

"I can wait till morning," Jack called back, but the innuendo he'd been going for just didn't work when he was already invited to spend the night. For all his banter with Allison the last couple of years, he was out of practice when it came to actually putting the ball into play. The disaster that had been his relationship with Callie was proof of that.

"Okay, then," Matt said as he emerged from the kitchen. He stopped a couple feet away from Jack, that same hesitant look on his face that he'd had before he literally blew out the fire. "Give me a minute, I'll make up the couch for you."

"Listen," Jack started, then decided this was one conversation he wanted to have on his feet. Thankfully, the couch was a lot easier to get out of than the butterfly chair. "I don't want to make things awkward--"

"Why not?" Matt raised an eyebrow. "I excel at awkward."

Jack laughed. "Okay, have it your way, then." He took two steps forward and reached out. Matt's beard was softer than Jack had guessed, though the hairs still crinkled under his fingers. Matt didn't resist him at all as Jack coaxed his head into position. In fact, he was pretty damn enthusiastic about returning the kiss.

"So," Matt said when Jack finally pulled back. "When do we get to the awkward part?"

Jack huffed out a breath. He felt a little dizzy from relief--not to mention from the arousal playing havoc with his heart rate. "Oh, just wait. It's been so long since I've done this kind of thing I think dust has built up."

"Hey, that's okay." Matt's grin held all kinds of promises. "I'm really good with anything dirty."

_Oh, yeah,_ Jack thought as he leaned in for another kiss. Good was definitely going to get better.

He'd even lay odds on fantastic.


End file.
